His Positive, Her Negative
by Anorexia
Summary: Will Schuester always wanted a child he could love and call his own. Emma Pillsbury, however, was another story. Emma-centric.


Disclaimer - I do not own Glee.

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Her large brown eyes are wide with horror and all colour has left her face. Her mouth is dry and she can feel her lips drying up as she spends more minutes erratically breathing as she looks down at the test. Her heart is thumping wildly against her chest and she wishes that the results were anything but.

Emma's hands are protected from germs by yellow rubber gloves. She wouldn't dare take the test without them. It would be gross and too much of a mess to clean up in case she didn't do it right. The test is thin and familiar to a popsicle stick that would be pressed against her tongue whenever she went to her checkups, only this time she doesn't want to know her results and dreads seeing the egg-white stick. It's the third one to tell her that she's positive and now the news finally settling in.

She's sitting on the ledge of his bathtub and while one hand holds the test, the other is wrapped tightly around her stomach as if she's about to vomit. Her eyes finally produce a reaction; she cries.

A child grows inside of her.

Will always wanted a child. A little Schuester that would be a perfect combination of mother and father. One that would grow up to be happy with life and do whatever their little heart dreamed of. The child, even if it held any flaws, would still be the most beautiful thing in Will's eyes. And before things with Terri fell apart, she remembered those days when he'd come into her office and talk to her about the plans he had for his non-existent daughter and how things in his life would be perfect now that he was going to be a father.

After he slept on the mattress, Will hardly spoke of children.

She knew he still wanted one and it obvious across his face when they would go out together and they'd see a young couple with their child. Will Schuester was designed to be a father.

But Emma was designed to be a mother. Not with her issues.

Babies were adorable, even she couldn't deny that, but they were also very messy. Too messy for Emma's comfort.

When her brother finally married and started a family of his own, Emma was quick to visit her first niece. She was adorable with her Pillsbury hair and large brown eyes that matched both father and aunt in warmth. Her cheeks were round and the her skin was a rosy red and smooth. Everything about the newest addition to the Pillsbury family was tiny, fragile, and absolutely adorable.

At first, she was nervous to hold the child. Her brother was reassuring though and told her that as long as you supported the head and tiny bottom, everything would be fine.

In her arms, the infant seemed almost weightless. Emma was quick to forget about messes and germs when she locked eyes with the child. The body was warm and she kicked her little legs every now and then. For a moment, Emma was in glee.

The moment ended however when the baby spat up upon Emma's pale blue blouse; leaving a splatter mark of white upon her left breast.

Emma froze. Her body was erect and her eyes were wide with shock. Her mouth was in an 'O' shape and she let out an uncomfortable and straggled cry.

Like he had done less than twenty years prior, her brother laughed as he remembered the same horrified expression on his sisters face when he pushed her into the runoff. As horrible as it was to react this way to her discomfort, he couldn't help but only find the humor in her reactions.

Emma only held her niece when she was equipped with rubber gloves and a washable plastic cover over her chest and shoulders. The infant grew to hate the smell of cleaning supplies stained onto her aunts materials and found the touch of rubber gloves to be uncomfortable. Her niece always cried and moved in discomfort whenever Emma would attempt to hold her.

Deep down, Emma had always wanted a child. Even though she knew her chances were slim because of her fear of intimacy and fear of messes. By the time her niece was two and refused to be held by her aunt when she wore the protective gear, she gave up the thought, knowing she wouldn't be much different with her own child.

And now her eyes are locked on the result of the test that reads positive. This wasn't exactly how things were supposed to go.

Emma was always certain that she and Will were careful. He always wore protection and she was on birth control pills even before intimacy, just to keep things regular. He promised to always wear protection until she wanted to go without it. Emma was aware that even if both partners used protection, there was still that chance a pregnancy could occur, but she didn't expect it to happen so soon.

She's embarrassed.

Perhaps if she was married to Will, her reaction would be slightly different. She would still be scared, but now the feeling of embarrassment and shame wouldn't be flooding her body. She wasn't even that experience. Only had she done these actions with Will and it had only been a dozen times, if that.

At twenty-nine she shouldn't feel so embarrassed about being pregnant with the child of the man she loves, but being old-fashioned makes her feel stupid and like a fourteen-year-old child that has also gotten pregnant out of wedlock. Sexually, she was delayed and reading this pregnancy test would have thrown her into happiness had she been more normal, but her delays in sex made her feel like she had to hide the baby only because of it has been conceived before marriage.

Her first time with a man wasn't exactly what she had in mind. She viewed this romantic moment between two people where Will Schuester was above her and finally doing something to her that she could only vaguely imagine and his touch was soft and heavenly. Instead, she found herself crying while he was inside of her because the pain was too much for her to handle. It was brief and she couldn't enjoy the actual part of intercourse because of her fear. It was like she was a child.

Even now, she felt like a child.

Emma wouldn't get rid of it. Terminating the pregnancy was against her own personal beliefs and she couldn't be able to forgive herself if she murdered a life inside her, especially if the father was Will. There was also no way she could give the child up for adoption. It would be painful to part from and she couldn't bear to see Will lose another child to adoption and hold the possibility of never seeing it again.

She let out a long dramatic sigh and ran a rubber glove protected thumb by her eyes to wipe away some of her tears. It wasn't right to base her views on why she should keep the child simply because Will wanted one. Her therapy sessions told her that she had to step up for herself and take control of her body and not allow other people in her life to influence her decisions.

But that was easier said then done.

She wanted to have a family with Will, someday in the future, but this was all too soon for her. They had only been together for ten months and that wasn't enough time for her.

There is a knock on the bathroom door and it startles her. She drops the pregnancy test and scrambles to pick it up and hide it away so Will doesn't know. Not yet, anyways.

"Em, are you alright in there?" Will called out from the other side of the door. His voice laced with concern. "You've been in there for a while and I thought you cleaned this morning."

She frantically hides the test in the box it originally was packaged in. "I'm just not feeling too well. I think it may have been something I ate."

"Do you need me to come in there?" He makes it clear in his voice that he wants to see her.

"No, Will. I'll be out in a minute." She shakes her head, even though she knows he can't see her.

Emma still holds the box that the test came in her left hand and stares at it. The tile of the bathroom floor is cold and is quickly cooling her legs that feel like they are on fire. Her right hand is making a small up and down movement across her stomach. She begins to cry again.

What was his positive, was her negative.

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Thank you for reading.


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